


well worth the wait

by doctorkaitlyn



Series: kinktober 2017 [12]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Canon Compliant, Edgeplay, F/F, Fisting, Kinktober, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Murder, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 18:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12439461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: "Do you want me to keep going?" Tabitha asks. Her fingers are still wrapped around the goon's chin, but she's looking at Barbara. Her dark eyes dip down between Barbara's legs first, down to the slow slide of her fingers, and Barbara canfeelthe gaze like it's a physical touch.A shudder runs down the whole sweat-slick length of her body, from the crown of her head down to her curling toes.When Tabitha's gaze moves up to Barbara's face, she continues, "I think he can last a few more hours, if I'm careful."





	well worth the wait

**Author's Note:**

> written for Day 18 of Kinktober 2017, using the prompt 'masturbation'. also written for Day 18 of Inktober for Writers, where the prompt was 'waiting.' 
> 
> this was originally supposed to be for a femslash100 prompt, but then it turned out to be 900 words. so.

Yet another spring storm has blown into Gotham, but more important than the sound of rain lashing against the windows or the thrum of music in the club below is the steady _plink_ of blood dripping onto a plastic tarp. 

The tarp is stretched out along the floor at the foot of Barbara's bed, and there's a sturdy metal chair resting in the middle of it. One of Penguin's goons, a skinny, twitchy guy whose name she's already forgotten, is tied to the chair with sturdy rope that's quickly grown sodden with blood, gagged with duct tape. His clothes are marred with rips and tears, and he's bleeding from a dozen different spots. His face is pale and clammy with sweat, and his eyes are drooped to half-mast, gaze directed towards the floor, towards the small puddles and lakes of his own blood on the tarp. 

He's lasted longer than Barbara expected. She only had him pegged at only twenty minutes, and it's been nearly an hour. 

"How's he doing?" Tabitha asks, grasping his chin with her leather gloved fingers and yanking it back, until his face is pointed straight up at the ceiling. A weak groan, more of a mewl than anything, makes itself known behind the tape, and a fresh trickle of blood drips from one of the more superficial cuts marking his neck. 

"He's still kicking," Barbara answers around a gasp as she slowly slides three of her fingers over her clit and down into her cunt. The inside of her thighs and the sheets underneath her are soaked with her arousal, and it's all she can smell when she inhales. She's so wet and relaxed that there's not even the slightest resistance when she adds her pinkie alongside her other fingers. 

With just a little bit more work, she thinks that she might be able to add her thumb as well. 

But then she'd be depriving Tabitha of that opportunity. 

She's lost count of how many times she's brought herself to the edge, just like she's lost count of how many carefully considered slices Tabitha has made with one of her many knives, which are spread out on a medical table at the edge of the tarp, gleaming under the bright lights, shiny and oh-so-sharp. 

"Do you want me to keep going?" Tabitha asks. Her fingers are still wrapped around the goon's chin, but she's looking at Barbara. Her dark eyes dip down between Barbara's legs first, down to the slow slide of her fingers, and Barbara can _feel_ the gaze like it's a physical touch. A shudder runs down the whole sweat-slick length of her body, from the crown of her head down to her curling toes. When Tabitha's gaze moves up to Barbara's face, she continues, "I think he can last a few more hours, if I'm careful." 

As much as Barbara would like to see that, watch Tabitha continue to work on the man until he's nothing but shredded skin and lost blood tied together with ropes, she doesn't think she quite has the stamina. Even though she's been trying to take it slow, both of her wrists are starting to ache, the predecessor to actual cramps that will really dampen the mood. 

So, with a reluctant sigh, she presses the heel of her palm against her throbbing clit and shakes her head. 

She doesn't have to say anything. Tabitha gives her a firm nod, grabs one of the longer knives off the tray and slams it into the man's chest, through his breastbone and directly into his heart. 

(It makes for a better show when she slits their throats, but it always makes such a mess, and getting arterial blood out of their silk sheets is such a _pain._ ) 

His eyes go comically wide, and the tendons in his neck go taut against his skin, but only for a few seconds; then, he slumps forward in the chair, muscles slackening, and goes completely still. Tabitha watches him for a few moments, and when he remains motionless, she peels off one of her gloves and presses two of her fingers to the side of his throat. 

She's nothing if not precise. 

With another nod, presumably to herself, she tugs off her other glove and tosses it onto the tarp. She doesn't stop there; she strips herself of all of her blood-spattered clothing, steps out of her stiletto boots, leaves everything in a neat pile near the tray of knives before she joins Barbara on the bed, blankets her body with her strong muscles and warm brown skin. Her clothes didn't catch all of the blood; there are speckles of it along the line of her throat and on her cheek. When Barbara rubs her thumb, slick with her own wetness, over the latter, the still tacky blood smears up Tabitha's cheekbone. 

"Where are we going to dump him?" she asks, arching her hips up to meet the firm line of Tabitha's thigh. The pressure isn't nearly enough to get her off, but it still makes a rush of pleasure flood her body. 

"We can talk about that later," Tabitha answers. One hand resting on the mattress beside Barbara's shoulder, she slides the other down between them, until it's brushing against her soaking cunt. "I think you've been waiting long enough." 

Her first three fingers slide in like nothing at all. So does her fourth. 

So, after Tabitha pulls back to carefully tuck her thumb into her palm before she presses back in, does her fifth. 

It's well worth the wait.

**Author's Note:**

> the fact that I can write something like this and tag it canon compliant makes me quite happy.
> 
> as always, I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
